Anything for You
by JenKristo
Summary: Cartman x Kyle. Cartman is in prison. Kyle's secret could lead to his freedom, but Cartman would rather stay imprisoned than tell anyone the truth about Kyle.
1. Stan's POV

Anything for You 1

Stan's POV

I hadn't been home from my summer trip for half an hour before Kenny burst into the house. Before I could brag about my tan he began to yell.

"Stan! Dude, you won't believe what happened!"

"What? What?"

"Cartman went fucking psycho. He shot Maz Kanett. He's in prison!"

"What?! Who's Maz Kanett? Is he dead?"

"He's in Hell's Pass. Cartman shot him in the head but he didn't die. They're not sure he's gonna wake up at all. Jesus, Stan. You don't remember Maz? He was the head of the sixth graders back in the day. The one who wore a green shirt with his face on it."

"Holy shit! Him? He just got back from graduating boarding school, didn't he? What happened?"

"That's the crazy thing, Stan. Nobody knows. All we know is that Cartman did it behind the high school in the greenhouse then called 911. He just said, 'We got in a fight and I shot him', and let the cops take him away. I sweet talked a chick cop into telling me some shit. She said that when they got there Cartman had set the gun on fire right near by. She thinks he tried to cover something up, but it doesn't make sense since he confessed right away to shooting him."

I shook my head. It was hard to listen to the details when the basic concept burned into my mind. Cartman shot somebody. Asshole Cartman who I thought was mostly all talk actually popped somebody. I felt like I might be able to relate to those kids who were exposed to school shootings, but not really. I wasn't even there. "When did this happen?"

"A week ago," Kenny replied. I nodded and he went on. "Let's go to Kyle's."

Kyle barely had to answer the door as Kenny barged in with me at his heel. I looked at Kyle. "Jesus, man. I can't believe this happened."

"Hey Stan," Kyle said morosely, "How was California?"

"Uh," I said, somewhat confused, "It was good." I looked over my friend, noting how tired he seemed. Being the most sensitive of our circle of friends, I knew the shooting must have taken a lot out of him. It must be hard for someone who always sees the best in people.

"I watched the news report again on YouTube," said Kenny, "Cartman's mug shot looked so fucking scary. He looked totally whacked. I think we should go visit him and ask him what the hell's happening. I woulda gone earlier, but I thought it would be better with the three of us."

"Yeah, I'm totally curious," I said. I looked at Kyle. "You wanna go now?"

Kyle shrugged.

"Aren't you a little curious?" I asked.

Kenny grabbed Kyle's coat and hat and shoved them at him. "You're not getting out of this, pansy. We friends gotta deal with shit together."

The walk to the prison was somewhat of a long hike, though we were all used to walking everywhere. I glanced once in a while at Kyle who kept his eyes on the ground. In his excitement Kenny had paced far ahead of us, regularly whining as he stood and waited for us to hurry up. For a moment when he was especially far from us I walked closer to Kyle.

I waited patiently as we walked for Kyle to talk to me. Finally he looked at me with a heartbreakingly sad smile. "I'm glad you're back, Stan."

At the Penitentiary they wanded us and took some things. Kenny lost his Swiss army knife and I lost the chain to my wallet.

"You'll get these back when you leave," said the guard as he led us into a long concrete hall with booths along one side. We pulled up three chairs and Kenny and I sat. Kyle stood off to the side, biting his nail.

"Sit down, friend," I said with a grin.  
Kyle glanced at me, catching on immediately. "Don't call me 'friend', guy."

"Don't call him 'guy', buddy," Kenny interjected.

I glared at Kenny. "I'm not your buddy, friend."

"He's not your 'friend', guy." Kyle said.

"Don't call me 'guy', buddy." I answered.

Kenny whacked me to get my attention and the smiles left our face as Cartman sat down across from us. A shiver ran down me to see Cartman in orange. It was just like in the movies. It was so bizarre.

I took the phone and Cartman took his.

"Sit your ass down, Kyle," Kenny said, patting the empty seat. Kyle reluctantly sat down and I looked back at Cartman.

Cartman asked me how California was which really pissed me off. "What the fuck is going on?" I said.

Cartman warned me that the guards didn't like us to fight.

"Well?" I asked.

Cartman relayed the same information Kenny had provided and I rolled my eyes.

"What did you guys fight about? Jesus, what the hell could you possibly fight about?"

Cartman gave me some dumb answer and asked to talk to Kyle. I wished I could punch him for being such a douche. He could at least have given me something. I handed Kyle the phone and he took it reluctantly. They stared at each other for a bit and I immediately felt excluded. Cartman glanced at me and turned the phone so I couldn't read his lips. It wasn't like I was an expert, but still. He pissed me off.

Cartman spoke first.

"Not so great," Kyle replied emotionlessly. "Cartman, I-"

But Cartman cut him off and Kyle nodded. They stared at each other with an odd sort of glare before Kyle spoke again.

"You're a good person."

Cartman looked angry then, nearly getting out of his seat to lean closer as he yelled something at Kyle. I could hear the jumbled sound of his angry voice through the mouth piece.

"I'm sorry," Kyle mumbled, and then with more feeling he said, "I'm really, really sorry."

Cartman's anger broke and he sat back, a look of sorrow on his face that I wasn't accustomed to seeing on him. It was too honest an emotion. He spoke calmly to Kyle.

"Why aren't you telling anyone what happened?" Kyle replied.

Cartman responded.

"I know. But what's going to happen to you?" Kyle asked.

Cartman spoke for a while and Kyle nodded. Cartman's face was so expressionless that I turned to Kyle, and was surprised to see how much of a wreck he looked. He continued to nod, biting his lip and squinting like he was going to cry. Despite my best friend's gentle nature, I had seen Kyle cry about as many times as I had which wasn't many. I couldn't believe after all the shit we had gone through, something like the fat ass going to prison would set him off.

"Cartman…" Kyle said miserably, but he cut him off. Kyle nodded and handed me the phone.

"Are you ok, Dude?" Kenny said as Kyle pushed back his chair and left. Kenny followed him, probably trying to get him to spill the other side of the conversation. I turned to Cartman.

"Tell me what's going on," I demanded.

Cartman smiled humorlessly. "You know, Stan, a lot of really bad things happened to the Jews through history."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"What do you think I'm talking about, fucktard? Who am I talking about?"

I glanced at the door where Kyle had left and Cartman nodded. "But-"

Cartman put his hand up to silence me, his eyes staring apathetically and his mouth in a thin line. "Just be there for him."

TBC. Please review!


	2. Cartman's POV

Anything for You 2

Cartman's POV

So much of being in prison is exactly as one would expect. Bad company, bad food, hard beds, sleepless nights. What no one can conceive is how incredibly long time feels when there's nothing to occupy it. Twenty three hours of solitude a day leaves a lot of time to obsess over why you're there. I think they intended it to be that way. Plenty of time for regret and sorrow.

Too bad for me. I'd do it again in a heart beat.

The prison guard came to my cell and looked down at me where I lay, facing the ceiling. "You got visitors, kid."

I didn't really argue as I followed the guard to the room, a long hall with booths and three inch glass between me and the real world. If I wasn't feeling so apathetic about everything I would have been surprised to see Kenny and Stan sitting across from me, Stan with the black phone in his hand. I couldn't hear anything as Kenny leaned back and talked to someone beyond my sight. Finally Kyle came and took the chair behind them. That, of course, surprised me.

I picked up the phone. "How was California?"

"What the fuck is going on?" Stan spat through the line.

"Don't get feisty," I said in all seriousness, "it doesn't take a lot to bug these guards."

"Well?"

"We got in a fight. I got his gun and shot him. That's it."

"What did you guys fight about? Jesus, what the hell could you possibly fight about?"

Plenty. I didn't answer. "Put Kyle on."

Stan looked really pissed but he did what I told him to.

It was a strange feeling I got as I waited for Kyle to take the phone. I looked through the glass as Kyle scooted his chair closer and oh so timidly took the phone. I looked at him. He looked back. I opened my mouth to speak but paused, glancing at Kenny and Stan. I shifted the phone so that the mouth piece covered their view. Stan looked annoyed when I glanced at him. No lip-reading for you, Marsh.

"Jewfag, you look like road kill. How's your sorry ass doing?" I greeted.

"Not so great. Cartman, I-"

"Don't," I said, cutting him off before he said something suspicious. I didn't want the cops suspecting Kyle of any involvement.

Kyle looked at me sadly. "You're a good person."

"Shut the hell up," I growled.

"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

That eased my rage, and I sat back. Kyle was sorry for me because of the predicament I was in, but more so for something darker. Kyle was apologizing because he felt weak, unable to be the virtuous person he always thought he was. His silence is what kept me behind bars, and I wouldn't have it any other way. If only he knew how much I understood.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Why aren't you telling anyone what happened?" Kyle asked.

"They're recording our calls, you know," I warned.

"I know. But what's going to happen to you?"

That was an easy question, at least. "It really depends on what happens to Maz," I said, "If he dies, I'll probably get a long sentence. If he wakes up, well, he's not going to say anything more than I have. Trust me."

Kyle nodded, getting worked up again. "Cartman…"

"Enough," I said. "Give the phone to Stan."

Stan got rude again and I warned him that Kyle was unwell. When I reached my cell and slid to the floor, my mind was whirling. With no distractions, it was enough to make a man crazy.

One thing I'm sure of is that if the homo in the green hat didn't exist, I wouldn't be gay. I wouldn't be straight either, because besides him, I hated everyone.

See, I had always been obsessed with him, as someone who made my life more fun, more interesting, my competition, and my enemy. I clearly remember when I figured it out because it was when Kyle came out of the closet. I imagined Kyle thinking about sex, and I wondered who he thought was hot. I tried to spy on him, trying to figure out which of the guys he preferred over the others, but I got nothing. I paid special attention to Stan, but there was never that look in Kyle's eyes that the mushy romances describe.

My train of thought went from crushes to sex, and it hit me that Kyle liked sex with men. Not that he'd ever done it, but I couldn't get the images out of my head. Sitting there in class imagining someone pumping into the Jew Boy was the first time I got turned on, and it was so strong that I had to raise my hand and run to the bathroom.

My feelings for Kyle were nothing like unrequited love. No, I had his face reserved in my mind for getting off; his fine piece of ass was only that, a piece of ass. His sweet breath made my mouth water when he got in my face, whispering the god's name in vain and wishing the worst for me.

But I knew now, after what I had done to land me in the penitentiary, that there was something else going on in my head that I couldn't admit just yet.

TBC. Please review!


	3. Kyle's POV

Anything for You 3

Kyle's POV

My heart ached but I held it together, my face blank as Kenny continued to drill me. Stan caught up with us soon enough and made him stop.

I had never wanted anyone so badly in my life as I walked back from the penitentiary. It was the most bizarre feeling, considering I had hated him passionately up until the moment he got involved with Maz Kanett. I felt so, so guilty for that. It was my business and Cartman butted in, and now he was locked up for it. Why didn't he just tell everyone? He had always hated me as much as I did him. Cartman loved to see me angry, loved to piss me off, and made the hard times more difficult to bear. All of this was true, yes, up until Maz Kanett.

It was very lucky that my eighteenth birthday had been only days after the accident. As much as I loved my mother, it was a relief to finally go somewhere without her nose in my business. What I really needed was a shrink, but that would have been too suspicious to my parents. I gave her the excuse that my head ached, because it really did. But that was the least of my problems. A doctor would have to suffice, and I was pretty sure they had to keep what I told them a secret. I had read through my Dad's old college law books.

"Kyle!"

The voice hit me out of nowhere and I swung, punching the person in the stomach. I focused and realized that it was only Kenny who had been walking with me and Stan from the penitentiary.

"Shit Brof, what the hell is your malfunction?" Kenny said from where he sat on the sidewalk.

"Oh Jesus, I'm sorry! You spooked me." I reached for him and he reluctantly took my hand, grumbling as he brushed the gravel from his clothes.

"I spooked you?" he complained, "You were zoning out when I was talking to you so I kept saying your name and then you went psycho!"

"You were totally out of it," Stan agreed.

"Sorry."

"Yeah, whatever," Kenny said in his way of forgiving. "You punch like a wussy anyway."

My mind was corroding slowly as days became weeks. Touch became fire to me, and I couldn't stand anyone near me. I felt terrible when I snapped at Stan, but it couldn't be helped. He should have kept his hands to himself. I kept getting spooked and kept zoning out, obsessing over Cartman and Maz Kanett. Kenny finally gave up and left me alone. Stan stopped bothering to talk to me, but he stayed by my side as he always did, at lunch as well as class.

I tossed and turned at night and never left the house besides school. I began to fail tests and miss assignments, but who could manage to study when they were tempted to sneak into the hospital and murder a man in his sleep? Finishing the job wouldn't make anything easier, especially for Cartman. I worried that he was the only thing keeping me from becoming a cold blooded killer. I was already a monster, so why not take the step? Cartman, that's why.

Since I couldn't murder Kanett, my fantasies turned on me. I very briefly contemplated suicide. I would have loved to escape this hell but once again Cartman prevented my action. If I died, the secret would be lost forever. Cartman would stay in prison for a long time, maybe for life. I wasn't that horrible as to do that. But then again, maybe I was. I was doing it now, wasn't I? I was keeping the secret to save myself at the cost of Cartman's freedom.

There was one thing I did try. I dug my sister's Swiss army knife into my arm, not enough to kill me but enough to hurt. And Jesus, it hurt more than I had imagined. I must have dug a little too deep because it bled like crazy, enough that I was tempted to go to the emergency room. But it stopped, and I didn't go anywhere. I wanted to do it again but I was too miserable of a coward to even punish myself. Plus, it didn't pass Cartman.

I visited him alone the day after I had cut myself, and I absent mindedly stroked my coat where the wound was hidden. Cartman assessed my expression as he usually did when I visited him, and told me like usual that I should take it easy. What a ridiculous notion.

"What's wrong with your arm?" Cartman said emotionlessly.

"Nothing. Why?"

Cartman didn't answer as he looked at my arm.

"Pull up your sleeve."

"No!" I protested, putting my arm under the table and grabbing the phone where it had been nestled against my shoulder. I sat up and frowned at him. "You think I'm cutting now? You're so paranoid."

"If I'm crazy, confirm it by showing me your arm." Cartman played.

I didn't have to show him anything then, because it was all in my face.

"You're fucking stupid," Cartman growled.

"Why do you care?" I asked.

Cartman looked puzzled.

"Why do you care what happens to me?" I asked again. "Why _did _you care?" I said, leaning closer to the glass. '_Care enough to get involved_,' I wanted to say, and I hoped he understood. Cartman didn't answer, his eyes burning more as I waited. "Why, Cartman?" I demanded loudly.

Cartman stood so fast then that his chair knocked over. He leaned close enough to the glass that the guard couldn't see his face. He couldn't speak it so he mouthed the words.

_'Because I want to fuck you.'_

My heart jumped into my throat and my jaw dropped. Cartman began to put the phone down but I banged on the glass until he heard me. He hesitantly put the phone to his ear.

"As soon as you get out, I'll let you," I agreed.

Cartman looked more shocked than I had ever seen, but it was quickly replaced with what looked like disappointment. He shook his head and hung up the phone, just as the guard came to escort him away.

TBC. Please review!


	4. Kenny's POV

Author's Note: This chapter was the most difficult to write, but it's my favorite so far.

Anything for You 4

Kenny's POV

I was surprised as shit when I got news that Maz Kanett had woken up from his coma. Now that Maz was awake and healed, there was nothing else to wait for and the trial was scheduled.

I was glad, really. It'd been months since the fatass shot him, and it wasn't fun being with Stan on the outside of Kyle and Cartman's secret club. It was clear to both Stan and I that there was something seriously fucked up about Kyle. I mean, he'd become a stranger! I don't know why he even bothered to come to school anymore. It was sad, really. Kyle had always been the smartest in our class, and now he's throwing it all away, senior year. Two months ago I'd have bet everything in my skimpy wallet that he would be valedictorian, but now it'd be a surprise if he graduated.

Time went even more slowly as everyone waited for the trial. When the day came, it was like a dark cloud had settled over South Park. The court was filled with familiar faces. Our friends and teachers, our moms and dads, and everyone else who could fit crowded their way into the room.

Since we were Cartman's closest friends, if you could even call us that, Kyle, Stan and I got the front row next to Cartman's mom. While Stan was trying to comfort her, I kept stealing glances to the left where Maz's family sat. There was a railing in front of us and beyond that was the pair of desks where the opposing sides sat. Maz sat to the left and we waited for Cartman to come out.

He finally did, his orange suit lighting up the room like a dying sun, chains clanking as they dragged from his ankles and clinked between his wrists. I anxiously looked between the two, but neither Maz nor Cartman were looking at one another.

The lawyers, Kyle's dad on Cartman's side and some guy from out of town on Maz's discussed what Cartman had said two months ago, and now what Maz had said when the cops talked to him in the hospital. Cartman's story was vague, a fight followed by him shooting Naz. Naz's story was the same, and the opposite. He said he had been hanging out behind the school in the green house with a friend his age, Cory Anter, and then he said he had been alone. After that he kept changing his story about why he fought with Cartman, but it always ended with, 'he shot me'. What was the biggest shocker was Maz's last version of the story, where it had been an accident. This one he insisted was true, that it was his dad's gun and he was just messing around with it, and Cartman showed up and took it the wrong way; that he thought Maz planned to shoot someone when he hadn't. He tried to take it away from Maz and accidentally shot him.

The trial after that was incredibly long and boring. Everyone and more testified in one or the other boys' defense, blabbing about how they had good character and did their chores. Stan went and then I did, but we didn't have much to say. The only thing we knew was that something was up with Kyle, but it wasn't like we were about to rat him out in the court room. Whatever Cartman and Kyle were up to, it was there business.

That was why I was on the edge of my seat when Kyle finally stood. He put his hand on the bible, swore, and took the stand. I glanced at Maz, who to my surprise was hunching further forward than he had been before, his eyes glued to the table.

"Tell me," said Maz's lawyer, "What is your relationship to Eric?"

"We went to school together."

"But he was your friend, right?"

"I guess. We hung out sometimes, but we don't have a lot in common."

I understood. What he meant to say is Cartman's a fucking asshole that nobody wants to hang out with. I was surprised how composed Kyle looked. It was nothing like the wreck he had been during the last two months.

"What do you have to say regarding Eric's character?"

Kyle shrugged. "He's rude, but I don't think he's a bad guy."

The hell you don't, I thought. The lawyer asked him questions and so did his dad, and Kyle kept up his vague responses.

"Alright, would the next witness please take the stand," said the judge in a bored voice.

I didn't even notice what was happening until I heard Kyle's dad.

"Kyle, you can step down now," said Mr. Broflovski, "Kyle?"

I looked up to see Kyle at the stand, standing up and not moving. His face was exactly as it was the day we first went to the prison, when he punched me in the stomach. More and more people began to look at him, and he blinked, turning to face Cartman.

"I'm not done," he said timidly. All eyes were on him now. I looked at Cartman, whose smooth mask was twisted into an angry grimace.

"I'm not done!" Kyle yelled. "I-"

"Shut your mouth, Jew!" Cartman bellowed, standing up. The guards were on him in a second, shoving him back into his seat.

"Order in the court!" the judge hollered. "Broflovski, say what you need to."

The room was dead quiet aside from Kyle's strained breath.

"Behind the school, in the greenhouse, I was there."

"You weren't there, you lying piece of shit!" Maz suddenly burst, "It was an accident! Cartman shot me and it was an accident!"

The Judge raised his voice until the room was quiet again. Maz and Cartman were unbelievably furious, almost as mad as I was confused. I glanced at Stan beside me, who looked just as shocked.

"I was in the greenhouse," Kyle said calmly, "because I was behind in class. I needed to replant my aloe plant. See, it was dying. I must have watered it too much." Kyle mumbled the last part before getting back on track. "So Maz came in with his friend, Cory Anter. They were just talking to me, and then they asked about me being gay, which I am. 'I heard you were a fag,' Maz said, 'I heard you screw guys'. I said it was none of his business. It happened really fast after that."

"You're full of shit," Maz said.

"Kanett, if you don't stop right now I'll throw you out of my court room."

Maz leaned back, rubbing his face in his hands as he mumbled.

"It- it happened fast," Kyle said, trying to remember his place, "Cory pinned me down, and Maz pulled out the gun. He said, 'You scream and I'll shoot you!'" Kyle's voice began to rise as he was consumed in his story. "'I'll shoot you!'" Kyle screamed.

Kyle made the most horrible noise then, a whimper like I had never heard. He hunched forward as he gripped the wood of the podium, his head down and his eyes screwed shut. His red curls fell over his face in disarray.

"'I'll show you, fag,' Maz told me. They pulled up my shirt and got my pants off. I had no idea Cory was so strong."

I looked back into the crowd, where Cory sat frozen between his horrified parents.

"Maz took the gun-"

"You don't have to tell them, Kyle!" Cartman was yelling again. "Nobody has to know!"

"-and he fucked me with it!" Kyle spat.

Cartman sat quiet, resigned.

"He took the gun and he put it in me! 'Bet you like that, faggot!'" Kyle yelled, quoting Maz's atrocities. "I didn't know what was on my legs until I saw the blood, but I was more worried about what he was going to do next. He just shoved harder and there was more blood. It hurt so much… I was sure I'd bleed to death.

"That's when Cartman came. He opened the door and… I'm so sorry Cartman… and I was so sure he was going to laugh. I thought he'd stand there and look down at me, take my humiliation like he always does and rub it in my face. I thought he'd laugh and leave me. He was still laughing in my head when he came in the greenhouse. He was so fast. Faster than they were, faster than I thought he could ever be. He got them off me, punched Cory in the face. Cory ran out as he went for Maz, and then they were fighting. The gun went off and then there was blood everywhere. Way more blood than mine.

"Cartman stood up and went to me. He helped me get my clothes on and asked if I could walk. I managed to get to my feet, so he told me to leave. He said he'd take care of everything." Kyle was crying now. "So I went home and took a shower. Cartman was only trying to protect me, to save me from the humiliation."

Kyle sounded like he was finished, and nobody spoke for a very long time. I looked around. Maz was focused on the ceiling, Mr. Broflovski was watching him. Stan was staring at the floor as was Cartman's mom. Cartman was looking at Kyle and Kyle was looking back.

Tbc. Please review and tell me what you think.


	5. Cartman's POV2

Note: I have other South Park fanfics if you're interested. I also have SP fanart in my DeviantArt gallery. This is the last chapter, but don't forget to review. Feedback equals more and better stories. Hope you enjoyed!

Anything for You 5

Cartman's POV 2

"Maz took the gun-"

"You don't have to tell them, Kyle!" I yelled, interrupting him. "Nobody has to know!"

It was killing me to watch him up there, evaporating the last drop of dignity he had left for my sake.

"-and he fucked me with it!" Kyle spat.

With no way to stop him now, I sat back and gave up. Kyle relayed the story to the court, which was the first time I could hear it out loud.

"-'Bet you like that, faggot!'" Kyle yelled, and I winced. It was almost too much bear, listening to what he had gone through before I happened to pass the greenhouse that afternoon.

"That's when Cartman came. He opened the door and… I'm so sorry Cartman…"

I looked up to meet his stare when he addressed me.

"...and I was so sure he was going to laugh. I thought he'd stand there and look down at me, take my humiliation like he always does and rub it in my face. I thought he'd laugh and leave me."

I realized then that all the years taunting Kyle had amounted to more than I thought possible.

The trial continued on, and a week later the conclusion had been made. My two months already spent in prison was sufficient punishment for acting in Kyle's defense. Maz Kanett and Cory Anter would be serving five years in prison, and there was no doubt that any plans they had to live in South Park were impossible now. Being forgiven for such a crime was not an option in such a small, tightly woven community.

I was powerfully irritated that it took so long to see Kyle. Mom was so overjoyed that I was free that she wouldn't leave me alone. Kyle's parents were with him nearly every moment of every day, and the rest he spent in therapy. I would have liked to be with him, but it would have meant dealing with his bitch-ass mother. Too bad I wasn't a saint.

On the fifth day out of prison I couldn't wait to see him any longer. I grabbed my coat and marched over to Kyle's place, rapping on the door.

"What in the- oh, Eric," Mr. Broflovski said as he answered the door. I had a whole speech prepared to shove down their throats in order to see Kyle, but it didn't come to that. Kyle's dad closed the door behind him and stood out in the snow with me. And then he was hugging me in a death grip. He had to stretch upwards to reach me.

"Thank you for what you've done for my son," he said, "It could have been so much worse if you hadn't involved yourself."

"Yeah, uh, you're welcome. Can I see him now?"

Mr. Broflovski slowly let me go, and smiled up at me. "You sure have grown since you were a kid. You must be six foot three! Anyway, my wife would say no, but I'm making the decision for her. If you can save Kyle once I'm sure you can do it again." He looked uncomfortable then, with his hands in his pockets. "Kyle is on suicide watch, as you know, so don't let him out of your sight for a second. No bridges or sharp objects and keep him away from medication that could interfere with what he's been prescribed."

"I'll hide my drug stash then."

It took a while for him to detect my sarcasm.

He finally let Kyle come out, and gave us a curfew of 8 pm. Five hours with Kyle.

We went down the sidewalk on the outskirts of town, the crunch of salt beneath our feet as we walked.

"I didn't forget what you said in jail," Kyle said, breaking the silence after two blocks. "And I'm not going back on my word."

I looked at him sideways, my stomach filling with butterflies at the thought of it. That was something I really, really wanted. "Hmm," was all I could say.

"So, we could go to your place if your mom is out," Kyle suggested.

As badly as I wanted this, as much as I knew this could be the only chance I'd ever get to have sex with the center of my fantasies, I knew it wasn't an option.

But I took his hand and changed direction towards home.

We didn't talk, and I kept our pace fairly quick. It was uncontrollable. I couldn't do it, but I couldn't stop. I dragged him in the house and up the stairs, slamming my bedroom door behind us.

I was on auto-pilot now. I shoved him against the door, pulling off his coat like a candy wrapper. I shrugged out of my coat when he tugged at it and soon we were free of our gloves and hats. I loved pulling off Kyle's hat, watching his red curls fall over his flawless, Adonis face.

I had to slow down then, to marvel at this rare experience, being allowed to touch his face. He watched with curious green eyes as my hand hovered near him, not sure where to go. My fingers finally moved over the dust of freckles on his cheek. I moved down the bridge of his Jewish nose, only just starting to look the way it should. My other hand slid down his smooth jaw and around the back of his neck. I swallowed as I touched his mouth, trailing over his soft wet lips that parted beneath my touch.

I couldn't wait any longer. I moved in quickly, hungrily, pressing him harder against the door as I kissed him. I was an uncontrollable force; a tsunami on his shores. I wound my fingers in his hair. He responded, working his mouth with mine until I was breathless. Kissing Kyle was ten thousand times better than I had envisioned. I wanted him now more than ever.

"Kyle," I murmured, "About what I said in prison, I … don't feel the same way now."

"You don't want me anymore?" he asked. It would have sounded arrogant from anyone else's lips, but I knew Kyle could be feeling worthless after what had happened to him. I had done a little research.

"Oh no, I still want to sleep with you like nobody's fucking business."

"Then what did you change your mind about?"

"I want to have sex with you, yeah, but that's not enough anymore. I couldn't stand sharing you with anyone. I want exclusive rights as well, rights that I'm never going to give up."

Kyle watched me, his eyes flitting about as he thought. "You want… to be my boyfriend?"

I laughed softly, kind of embarrassed. "Whatever. I just want you, and maybe not just for sex anymore. You're not bad company, you know. What do you think?"

Kyle looked to the side, his eyes staring at one of my old posters without really looking at it. "I think you and I want the same thing."

"Good."

"Well then," he said, his beautiful mouth curling into a smile, "Where were we?"

I sighed. I was so pissed at myself then, and at the same time, I was a little smug about my own self control. "Look, I'm used to pissing you off so I don't care if I do it now. If you haven't noticed, you're a little fucked up in the head right now."

Kyle tried to protest but I stopped him.

"I said before that I want all of you, and that includes a healthy functioning brain. I _am _going to mattress-burn you eventually, I'll make sure of that, but you have to get your shit together first."

"There's nothing wrong with me," Kyle insisted, stubbornly.

I jerked forward quickly, psyching him out. He flinched so hard he hit the door.

"See?" I said, "I didn't even touch you. What's going to happen when I start taking your clothes off, huh, Kyle? Are you going to start imagining the greenhouse? I don't want you to associate me with that shit, not ever."

Kyle was still pressed against the door, his eyes shut and his body rigid.

"Kyle?"

I slumped, immediately regretting what I'd done.

"Oh fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." I put my hands on his forearms, sliding up to his narrow shoulders. I felt his muscles relax beneath my touch and I took him in my arms.

"You're right," he mumbled against my chest. "I'll do whatever you think is best."

"Sounds good to me," I said. He looked up at me again, his eyes commanding me. I bent over and kissed him, and despite my stubborn ego, I knew my will would always be in his hands.

The End.

Don't forget to review! I want to know what you think about the conclusion.


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